


Between A Rock And A Hard Place

by Ellajane2255



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!Holly, Alpha!Lockwood, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barnes is everyone’s grandad, Beta!George, Dick Jokes, F/F, F/M, Heats, Hoes and bro’s, I already know half the fandom’s gonna hate me, I’ve been meaning to write this since before time began, Kidnapping, Lockwood’s coat, Lucy and Quill are best buds, Lucy is a (clothes) thief, Lucy isn’t a good kidnap victim, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oh man get ready for CLICHES, Omega!Lucy, Omega!Quill, Protective Lockwood, Quill is immature, Quill wants that dick, bro's before hoes, but what happens when your bro IS a hoe?, dark themes, horny bastards, lots and lots of dick jokes, mentions of human trafficking, ruts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-02-21 14:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18703816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellajane2255/pseuds/Ellajane2255
Summary: (DISCLAIMER - I don’t own Lockwood & Co.)‘This shit always happens to me,Why can’t we just play for keeps?Practically on my knees,But I know I shouldn’t think about it.’ - Ariana Grande





	1. α

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WolfjawsWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfjawsWriter/gifts), [Flames_and_Fairy_Tales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flames_and_Fairy_Tales/gifts).



“Quill, if you say the words ‘Lockwood’s cock’ one more time, I’m going to scream” 

The redhead beside her threw back his head and laughed. 

Sometimes Lucy had to agree with George - it was hard to see why she was friends with Quill. They had very little in common, were different ages, from different backgrounds, had different interests, and opinions. God, at one point they’d hated each other’s guts - but they had one big thing in common. 

They were both Omegas. 

And being an Omega sucked. 

Seriously. From the very moment you’re born, you’re already at a disadvantage; you’re generally smaller than other people, and because of an extremely dark history Lucy didn’t particularly want to dwell on, made up only about 15% of the population, Alpha’s being roughly 40% and Betas the other 45%. 

You were less likely to get a job - employers were legally required to give Omegas paid leave for Heats, which of course, didn’t go down well. Not only that, but Omegas were only allowed to work in 1954, and there were still loads of traditionalists who said they shouldn’t. 

There was catcalling too, and sexual harassment. Name calling on the streets, and ‘hey, Omega! Want a hand with your next Heat?!’ 

Then there were Heats. 

Oh God. 

Heats. 

Four days every couple of months of nothing but soul-crushing need. Sweats, shaking, and near constant masturbation. 

But eh, she shouldn’t complain. It could be worse. It could always be worse. 

Next to her on the pavement, Quill wiggled his eyebrows. “Why? Getting all hot and bothered, Lucy?” 

She rolled her eyes, and shoved him. “No, it’s just weird that you won’t stop speculating on the size of Lockwood’s dick-“ 

“He’s an adult! He’s 18 years old, I’ve just turned 23! That’s five years, Carlyle, that’s not weird at all”, he inspected his neatly trimmed nails, “anyways, I wasn’t speculating. I was thinking out loud. You chose to answer me” 

“Shut up”, she knew she was going red. 

“But seriously, by all known laws of proportion, he should have a massive-“ 

“I will push you in front of that taxi!” 

Quill smirked, adjusting the rucksack over his narrow shoulders. “Mm, no, you won’t. Because then who would you bitch about life with?” 

“... true” 

He preened. “Of course” 

“Maybe I’d just have to find another Omega-“ 

“What, and have to explain to them all your… frankly, pretty kinky fantasies about your boss?”, he raised a ginger eyebrow, and Lucy scowled. 

“They’re not fantasies-“ 

“They totally are” 

“They are not!”, she insisted. 

“Whatever you say, peaches”, the ex-Fittes agent replied with a smirk, “anyway, you should hear something I learnt the other day” 

“Learning? Woah, slow down, Quill, don’t overexert yourself”, Lucy said sardonically. That earned her an eye roll - “apparently, an Alpha’s knot is the size of his fist” 

“That’s utter bullshit-“, she began. 

“Look here, Carlyle, which one of us knows more about knots here, me or you?”, Quill jabbed her playfully in the arm. 

“That’s beside the point, the point is-“

“That Lockwood has freakishly large hands, and therefore would have a knot that would stretch you in two? Yeah, that is the point” 

She went immediately red. “You’re so vulgar!” 

“Yeah, and you wouldn’t change me for all the lavender in Lincolnshire” 

“Damn straight” 

The two of them walked in step as they turned onto Portland Row- and Lucy suddenly grimaced. 

The young man looked at her, and slowly raised his eyebrows. “Oh, no” 

“Oh-... Yes” 

Lucy's uterus had suddenly clenched, all her muscles contracting painfully at once. Her Heat was going to start. 

“I didn’t think you were supposed to start until Saturday” 

“I’m not. It’s- early” 

With an empathetic sigh, he helped her stand up straight and guided her the way down the pavement to number 35. He nudged open the wrought iron gate with a small hip, and led her up the steps. 

George must have seen them coming up the pathway, because he answered without them ringing the bell. Some words passed between them, which Lucy found she couldn’t discern because of the sudden ringing in her ears. 

George glanced at her, entirely unaffected by the hormones she knew were pouring off her. A Beta, very clearly, George went largely unaffected by any fluctuations in the hormone levels of those around him. He smelt okay, like a cheap perfume, or a laundry detergent. 

The two other agents helped her inside, propping her up against the wall. “I’ll phone Holly and tell her to keep Lockwood out for a while longer” 

“Good plan. Right, if I’m not needed any longer”, Quill petted her head like she was an obedient golden retriever, “I’ll be off” 

“Don’t… pet my head. I’m not a dog” 

“Okay, peaches”, he gave her head another pat, moving towards the door, “whatever you say” 

“Screw you, Quill” 

“Ah, but why screw me? Not when you could screw-“ 

George appeared from the kitchen. “Quill, you better go. Holly just texted me that they’re already at Regents Park” 

The male Omega smirked. “Ah, such a shame. Well, don’t cramp too many fingers, Carlyle, you’ll need at least a couple still working to hold a rapier. Or a-“ 

“Goodbye, Quill”, she shoved him out of the door, his laughter ringing as she closed it behind him. 

George looked at her with as close to an expression of sympathy as he could muster; “Do you want a hot water bottle or something?”. “Eh, thanks, but I’m alright, George” 

He gave her a nod, and disappeared back into the kitchen, where there was the sound of a kettle clicking. 

She closed her eyes… and sniffed. 

Heats often led to heightened senses; smell, sight, hearing, sensitivity to touch, taste. The hallway smelt as it usually did, if somewhat stronger, but… 

Her eyes opened, pupils narrowing as they focused in on the long, dark piece of fabric hanging beside the kitchen door. 

It radiated scent. 

Lockwood’s coat. 

Lucy felt her mouth go dry. Her knees felt weak. There was a fresh wave of heat between her thighs, and Lucy lunged for it. 

Without thinking, she grabbed the coat, and raced upstairs with it in her arms. 

In her room, with the door firmly bolted, she kicked off her shoes and practically tore off her clothes, before climbing onto her bed. 

Omegas liked to nest - that was a rule. Lucy's bed was a prime example, covered with heavy quilts, pillows, plush toys, fluffy jumpers, and blankets. 

Naked, she sat down, wrapping the coat around her and taking a deep lungful of Lockwood’s scent; fresh coffee, that funny smell that new books always had, and the smell of rain on dry concrete. 

It was mind-melting. 

She collapsed onto the mattress, hemmed in by pillows and teddies, slipping her hands under the cushion beneath her head - and her hands found the soft material of wool. 

With a secret smile, she pulled it out, and inspected the clothes; all of them Lockwood’s. 

She’d… ahem… acquired them. 

Slowly, of course. So as to not be noticed. 

It had been the scarf first. That Spring, as it was getting warmer. He wouldn’t miss it; dark blue, with a shiny gold crest stitched on one end. 

Then it had been the shirt - from the laundry basket on the kitchen table, freshly washed and folded but still smelling of him. And, well, he had about fourteen white shirts, didn’t he? He wouldn’t miss one, surely. 

And then the sweater, abandoned in the library for several days. She’d had off with that, too, and he hadn’t said anything. 

And now - the coat. 

After all, it was getting towards Winter, now, and he’d soon switch to his much heavier, black coat, and this one would be put away. He… he wouldn’t miss this one… right? 

Lucy pressed her face into the pile of clothes, feeling the rough material of the coat rub her skin, making her burn. 

A cursory glance, and she was relieved to see the water bottle on her bedside table was full enough to keep her sustained for at least the next few hours. 

With that final conscious thought, she snaked a hand beneath the coat, and closed her eyes, nose pressed into the collar of the jacket, where Lockwood’s scent was strongest.


	2. ξ

It was about four days later that Lucy had her first conscious post-Heat thought; 

She really needed a shower. 

With a groan, and a pop of aching muscles, she rolled out of her tomb of soft fabric and stood, shambling into the tiny bathroom nestled beneath the eaves of the roof. 

She took her time in the shower, washing several days worth of grease and grime from her hair until she felt clean, and stepped out. She dressed in a comfortable skirt, some leggings, and a baggy jumper she tried to reserve for the few days after a Heat when she felt like she’d been hit by a truck, because it was a crime against fashion - or so Holly claimed. 

A glance at her watch revealed that it had just gone 8am. She had enough time to at least make her bed and maybe do a load of laundry and get something to eat before the others woke up. 

With her first smile for four days, Lucy started to strip her bed of its unpleasant covers and dump them into her laundry hamper. The pillowcases followed, as did several plush toys, soggy pyjamas, and- 

Lockwood’s coat. 

It was… soaked. 

And- stained with her- 

Blushing, she shoved it ruthlessly into the basket, hiding it just in case she encountered one of her colleagues as she practically ran down the stairs to the kitchen, and then down into the laundry room, adjacent to the basement. 

The Omega tipped the basket into the washer, slammed the door, poured in some detergent, and turned it on. 

A little light flashed up with the digits ‘40’ and she sighed in relief. 40 minutes washing, then about half an hour drying- it was fine. She had plenty of time to get it clean before Lockwood could inquire as to its whereabouts- unless he’d already noticed it missing, then she was- 

No. Deep breaths. 

Lucy finished some paperwork on her desk, listening absently to the radio as she worked, the skull in the jars ectoplasm swirling faintly on the corner of her desk, until the washing machine dinged. 

Everything was unloaded, and tossed it into the dryer. She smiled, inhaling the scent of lavender detergent and- 

And Omega. 

Why- 

The coat. 

Her hand closed around the thick material. 

She tugged it out, and pressed her face into it. 

Oh, God. 

It stank. 

Of her. 

Lucy hurled the rest of the clothes into the dryer and turned it on, before racing back to her desk. She stuffed her purse into her skirt pocket, stepped into her boots, not bothering with the laces, and took off up the stairs to the front door. 

It was nearly 9am, so the laundrette would be open by the time she got there, and she could have the coat properly cleaned so it didn’t stink of her, and- 

Everything would be fine. 

Fine. 

She would be fine. 

And Lockwood would be none the wiser. 

The agent turned the corner onto the street, clutching the coat to her chest. 

She pushed the door open, and hurried inside. Luckily, the shop was mostly empty. There was a young woman behind the counter - a Beta, Lucy recognised from her scent - and an elderly woman with a young child. A boy, probably about 13 or so, in the mustard coloured jacket of Dullop and Tweed, dozed beside a dryer as it clunked away, rapier across his lap. 

That made Lucy pause. She hadn’t thought to pick up her rapier - in fact, she could picture it; propped against the foot of her iron bedstead, where she had placed it earlier that morning. 

The Omega made her way to the counter, sheepishly. The woman offered her a smile, “hello, how can I help you?” 

“Hi, um-“, she glanced down at the coat, “my- my friend asked me to bring her coat here. She just said it needed a good clean, not- what had happened to it” 

If the woman saw through her lie, she said nothing, just smiled, and took the coat from her arms, and handed her a receipt. “That’s absolutely fine, Miss. Would you like it pressed, too?” 

“Oh- Oh, no, thankyou, that’s- fine” 

She nodded, and disappeared into the rooms behind the shop. 

With a relieved sigh, Lucy planted herself in one of the waiting chairs by the window. She picked up one of the newspapers out of a rack, flipping through it idly. 

About half on hour later, the woman returned, and called the number on Lucy's ticket. 

It was with relief, a renewed spring in her step, and a clean coat, that the Omega stepped out of the laundrette and into the street. Despite the orange leaves clinging to the skeletal trees lining the street, it was a pleasant day, and there was a promise in the air that it would be warmer as the day drew on. 

She walked down the street, soaking up the pale sun, faintly aware of the cars passing her on the road. 

The agent reached a crossroads, and pressed the button on the traffic lights. Opposite, a group of Fittes agents were piling into a van, a good number of them looking somewhat worse for wear, rapiers still faintly steaming with ectoplasm, even at this hour. The grey van, with the famous Fittes unicorn stencilled on the side, pulled away from the curb, and disappeared down the street. 

Once again, Lucy was aware of her lack of rapier, and her somewhat shabby state of dress, too. 

It didn’t matter. It was already well into the daylight hours, and it was barely a five minute walk home. 

A shiny, black car pulled to a stop at the crossing. Taking that as her cue, she held up her hand to the driver to thank them for letting her cross, and hurried across. 

But as she passed the car, it suddenly lurched forwards, only narrowly missing her- when the back door opened, and a hand grasped her arm tightly, and yanked her inside. 

The door closed, and the car sped off. 

-:-:- 

Inspector Montagu Barnes of DEPRAC specialised in crimes of a supernatural nature. That was, and always had been, his area of expertise. 

Indeed, the iron medals in small Perspex boxes on his desk, the well-polished and well-loved Italian rapier above his mantelpiece at home, the silver cross he wore around his neck all indicated this. 

But that’s not to say that he wasn’t aware of the cruelty and monstrosity that humans were capable of. 

He’d only just joined the force at Scotland Yard when the Ealing Cannibal had been carrying out his evil deeds from an otherwise innocuous little suburban home. 

And on the wall, between a wedding photo of him and his beloved Emily, and a much newer photo of a boy in a green sweater with yellow ducks on, aged newspaper cuttings of violent terror attacks, organised by the ghost cults that he had helped find the culprits of. 

Opposite his desk, a photo of him, rather shadowed by a tall, slender young man in a long coat who grinned at the camera, attached to an article on the infamous serial killer Harry Crisp. 

He was no stranger to crimes normal or paranormal in nature. 

There was a knock at the door. “Come in”, he said, not looking up from his paperwork. A moment later, and the door opened. The Beta Inspector was hit with the smell of Alpha - something you learned to pick up with age - and he raised an eyebrow at the young constable. 

“What?” 

Barnes himself might not have been an Alpha, but he didn’t fear them. They just needed discipline. 

“Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but- there’s been a disturbance in Marylebone, NW1” 

“A disturbance? What kind of disturbance?”, Barnes placed down his pen and looked at the young Alpha.

“A- an apparent kidnapping, Sir. An elderly lady rang up and said she saw a young woman get pulled into a car in the street. We’ve got a full description, and there’s a good chance we can get the incident on CCTV, too” 

“Good work, Jenkins. Pass me the notes” 

The young man handed over the notes, and was dismissed. 

Barnes flipped through the notes at length, pausing only the look at the description the witness had given of the victim; 

Young woman, Omega, probably between the ages of 16 and 20, 5’5, 130LB, dark hair, blue sweater, skirt, boots, carrying bundle. Crossing Chaucer’s Road when approached by black Mercedes from further down street, licence plate/driver not seen, pulled into backseat. Drove off in Easterly direction. 

East… East from Marylebone was… Whitechapel… and then Newham… Silvertown. The entire area was rundown; filled with abandoned warehouses and rundown factories. 

It was like a dark labyrinth, it’s only inhabitants Visitors, rats, and the Relic men and women who picked its shores for rubbish. 

If the girl was taken there, they stood little chance, if any, of ever finding her. She could quite easily be smuggled into a shipping container and taken off down the Thames and around the coast to Dover, and from there… anywhere. 

He sighed. Any crime involving a young person was distressing, but it was crimes like these that always particularly stuck in his memory; young women, and occasionally men, snatched off the street for no other reason than their classification, to be sold in Europe or further abroad into lives of abject slavery. 

The thought of it happening to a stranger was distressing enough, but the thought of it possibly happening to someone he knew was even more upsetting; Mr Kipps, the ambitious young ex-Fittes supervisor, Ms Amundsen,one of his secretaries who he knew was mated to Ms Munro, or Ms Carlyle, the clever Omega whom Anthony Lockwood seemed to have such an attachment to. 

The thought was abhorrent to him, and he forced himself to break from his revery, eyes coming to rest once more upon the witness description. 

He closed his eyes, and allowed his mind to conjure an image of the witness, to fill in what the description lacked… 

His eyes snapped open, and he reached for the phone on his desk. 

-:-:- 

Holly, as usual, was the first one awake and presentable at 35 Portland Row. She slid her key into the lock, turned it, and pushed the shiny black door inwards. She removed her coat, and hung it up next to her handbag. 

She moved across the hallway, making a floorboard creak, when the phone on the table by the living room door began to ring. 

She picked it up. 

“Hello, Lockwood & Co. paranormal investigators. How may I help you?”, she asked politely. 

“Ms Munro? It’s Inspector Barnes” 

The Alpha perked up. “Oh! Inspector Barnes good morning. I hope you’re well” 

“Well enough, thankyou, I hope you're well. Ms Munro, I shan’t beat about the bush. This isn’t a social call. It’s probably just me being paranoid, but… there was a recent incident in Marylebone, I can’t disclose the details, but… just… is Ms Carlyle there?” 

“Ms- Lucy? Oh, I can’t say I’ve seen here. I only just arrived. She’s probably still in bed” 

“Let us hope so. Ms Munro, I’m probably just being a paranoid old man, but… oh, I can’t believe I’m saying this… I worry about you lot. I do. Phone me back at once if anything is amiss” 

“Will do, Sir. Thanks for letting us know” 

Holly frowned delicately as she placed the phone down, and made her way upstairs. She paused, listening outside George’s door, before knocking. “George?” 

No reply. 

“George!”, she said, a good bit louder, hammering this time. 

There was a sound like a startled owl waking up in a particularly small cardboard box, all panicked flapping and confused hooting, before the door opened. 

“What- Hol? What is it?” 

“Barnes just called, and told me to check on Lucy, but I must say, the whole thing is rather cryptic-“ 

“Then why wake me up? You know where her room is-“ 

She raised a shapely eyebrow. “George, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you why I, an Alpha, going into Lucy’s, an Omega in Heat, room is a terrible idea” 

He blinked his pale blue eyes at her, and sighed. “Very well, then. Stay here” 

Before he could get to the bottom of the stairs, however, Lockwood’s door opened. The male Alpha surveyed his surroundings and frowned. “What’s everyone doing up here? Is there a party I don’t know about?” 

Holly turned to him. “Inspector Barnes just called, and told us we need to check on Lucy, but for obvious logistical reasons… I had to wake George” 

Lockwood frowned. “He-? How odd… Holly is right, George, you had better check on her” 

With a grumble, the Beta tramped across the hallway and up the narrow flight of steps to Lucy's bedroom, and knocked. 

There was a pause, and he opened the door, fully expecting to hear a shriek, and have some projectile hurled at his head. 

But it never came. 

In fact, the room was oddly silent. Eerily untouched. 

The bed had been made, the array of plush toys set in a line against the metal headboard. The floor was clear except for a couple of errant socks, but who could fault her for that? 

The bathroom door was open, the room beyond it empty and dark. Her rapier was propped against the bed. Her rucksack was hanging from the peg nailed to the side of the wardrobe. 

He stepped back, and hurried downstairs. 

“I don’t know what Barnes knows, but it’s right” 

Lockwood and Holly’s eyes widened. “What?”, she frowned. 

Lockwood was already rushing past George, up the stairs, skidding to a stop before Lucy’s open door, peering inside. 

He was hit with the residual waves of smell; Heat. 

He felt his primeval instincts rise to the surface, but pushed them away. He stepped into the room, noticing the smell get slightly stronger. 

The room was empty, just as George had said. Her rucksack was there, and her rapier too, so… where on Earth could she have gone? 

The Alpha rushes back down the stairs, taking them two or three at a time, until he reached the hallway, where a nervous looking Holly and an unperturbed George were waiting. 

“Lucy's gone”, he said. Holly grasped his upper arm - “What?” 

George, now wearing his glasses, took them off and wiped them calmly. “Not too far, I shouldn’t think. She’s only just finished her Heat, and she left her rucksack and rapier” 

“But Barnes-“

“Barnes is paranoid, he said it himself”, the glasses were placed back on his nose. 

Lockwood was silent, before looking at the other Alpha as a worrying thought flirted with his conscious. “You don’t think that she’s… left, again, do you?” 

“Not likely. Not without… well, any of her belongings”, George interjected. 

Lockwood took a deep breath, and shook his head minutely as if to shake away bad thoughts. “Of course. You’re right, George. She can’t have gone far”, he started towards the staircase to the ground floor, “but if she’s not back in an hour, we’re calling DEPRAC. She’s in no state to be- wandering around the city” 

“Yes, Lockwood”, they said in unison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Please don’t forget to leave a comment - I love to hear what you think! Thanks for reading!


	3. β

The skull on Lucy’s desk had been hanging upside down, inverted, and spinning rapidly for the past two hour or so. 

George watched it with something akin to interest from his desk, wondering what on Earth it could possibly be jabbering about, its teeth clacking with an urgency that was almost amusing for a dead person. 

Not for the first time, he found himself wondering what it would be like to hear spirits, rather than just see them in the grainy flatness he always saw them in. 

The front door closed upstairs, just as the grandfather clock in the hall chimed midday, and the spirit immediately stopped, the ectoplasm continuing to swirl around it with conserved momentum. It’s bug-eyes fixed on George for a split second, then flickered to the stairs. 

Holly clattered down the steps, looking more than a little harried. “That was Barnes. He says he has staff looking into the case already. Lockwood’s tearing her room apart looking for any hints as to her whereabouts” 

George nodded faintly. “What do you think it’s saying?”, he whispered. 

The Alpha frowned. “What-?”

“The skull. It’s been doing that”, as he spoke, the skull snapped back inside out, upside down, and began to spin, teeth chattering, “for about an hour” 

“... I really don’t know. Something foul, no doubt. Lucy always said it was a frightful thing, and it must be. Just look at it” 

“... Maybe it’s in Heat. She did once say it was an Omega”, the Beta said. 

Holly gave a delicate laugh. “Can the dead have Heats and Ruts?”

“Who knows. Maybe that’s what all those Poltergeists really are. Alphas in Rut”. The two managed a laugh, knowing Lucy would want them to keep their spirits up in her absence. 

Upstairs, however, Lockwood was following quite a different train of thought. 

He paced up and down the hallway nonstop, no doubt beginning to wear thin the oriental rug beneath his shoes. 

The phone sat irritatingly silent. He glared at it, face dark, hands curled into fists by his sides. 

He couldn’t stop; the moment Barnes had told them the details surrounding Lucy’s disappearance, he had filled with a destructive, uneasy, unceasing energy. 

He couldn’t stop moving. He couldn’t stop thinking. Where was she? Was she hurt? Was she still in Heat? Did she need his help? Was she safe? Was she with other Alphas? 

The last thought made an unpleasant knot tie itself in the pit of his stomach. 

He’d practically pulled her room apart at the seams, searching for any sign or hint or clue as to her whereabouts. There had been nothing; no notes, no journals, no maps, no letters, no invitations, no tickets. Nothing. 

It was as if she’d just… ceased to exist. 

-:-:- 

The only thing Lucy was aware of was a pulsing pain in the back of her skull. 

It was black; too dark to see anything. There was a far off rushing sound, and she tried to sit up. 

Something cold and hard connected with her shoulder, and forced her down. “Careful, Miss Carlyle. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself” 

Even in her dazed, confused, and startled state, she recognised that voice. “Julius Winkman!” 

There was a laugh. “Oh, clever girl. Wasn’t sure you’d catch on that quickly” 

She lunged at the source of his gravelly voice- and her fingers connected with cold, rusted metal. A cage. 

She was in a cage. 

“Let me out right now! Winkman!”, she yelled, rattling the bars. 

Something clattered along the metal, making it vibrate, before being brought down *hard* on her fingers. She yelped in pain, and stumbled back, landing on the wet floor. 

“Good Omegas don’t touch the bars” 

She growled, and lunged at him once again. This time, the impact came before she had gotten anywhere near the bars. 

She ran into something with an extremely small surface area, resting at the height of her solar plexus. 

That tiny force sent her to the floor, knocking the air from her lungs. She gasped, trying to suck in breaths. 

“Oh, dear. Bad Omega” 

She curled over herself protectively, shielding her internal organs and her shuddering lungs. 

There were some receding footsteps, and a moment later, the air was filled with a juddering hum, and the yellow lights overhead flickered into life. 

She was in a large warehouse; the bottom of the walls were made of decaying, mossy bricks, then thick sheet metal up to the roof, crisscrossed with metal girders and walkways, fluorescent lights swaying on cords between them. 

The windows, high above the filthy concrete floor, were either smashed or black with dirt and smog. There was the hum of electricity in the lights, the squawk and cries of seagulls. 

Lucy was in one of a row of cages - still in terrible condition, but better than the rest of the warehouse - that had clearly been installed after the building had been abandoned, bolted to the stone floor. 

It was perhaps five foot by six, and she could have probably extended her arm above her head and touched the top of it. There was an entrance on one side, held shut with a heavy-duty padlock. 

And beyond that door, the smirking countenance of Julius Winkman. 

The Omega glared at him. 

The Beta leant his weight on a metal cane, and raised a dark, bushy eyebrow. 

She remembered that, on their last meeting, glaring at each other across a packed courtroom, he had been a large, intimidating, brick wall of a man, possibly wider than he was tall. But he had been fat; now, his clothes hung loosely on his form, his hands were bony, spars of pale flesh, knuckles protruding as he grasped the top of a silver post-surgery cane. 

Only now, with the acknowledgment of the cane, did Lucy notice a subtle difference in how he stood. She narrowed her eyes. 

As if sensing her acknowledgment, he took a step forwards. “I am glad to see that your spirit has not been dampened in any way by the last few months, Miss Carlyle. Quite the opposite. It will make it all the more pleasing the break” 

“You dog!”, she spat. 

He lifted the cane, and slowly dragged it across the bars once more, making them rattle and clatter. “Dog? Oh, but Miss Carlyle, one of us is in an animal cage, and I’m afraid it isn’t me” 

“You’ll pay for this!” 

“I already have. You see, I have ‘done the time’ for my crimes. Almost two years of time, to be precise”, he placed his cane back on the floor, and shifted his posture, “and it has made me a different man. I am… changed” 

She laughed derisively. “You’re still a murdering bastard!” 

“Hmm, perhaps. But I can no longer do so for myself. I must have others dirty their hands for me. I am a broken man”, he gestured to his right leg, which he didn’t place any weight on, “you see, I have many enemies, a good deal of whom are in prison. By putting me away, you put me firmly within their grasp. One saw it fit to repay his debts by spearing a sawed-off metal bed railing through my hip, rendering my right leg entirely useless” 

“It’s no less than you deserve!” 

The smirk become a feral glare. “You would do well to watch your tongue, Omega. It’s not in our habit to damage our goods, but if you must be disciplined, so be it” 

“Bastard!”, she snapped, stumbling to her feet. 

He narrowed his eyes, and lifted his head. 

“Leopold!”


	4. ψ

Lockwood rushed across the pavement outside of Scotland Yard, boots kicking up rain water. 

Holly and George hurried after him, the Alpha holding a dark umbrella above her head to shield them from the morning rain. 

It was the day after Lucy's disappearance, and they’d received a phone call from DEPRAC, summoning them to Scotland Yard. 

The Beta doorman took Holly’s umbrella with a sober nod, glancing at their ID cards. Inside, behind the wide glass windows, they were intercepted by a young officer, who led them towards the lifts, and up several floors to Barnes’ office. 

They walked down a long, nondescript hallway, white-walled and broken only by windows that looked out over grey, damp streets. 

‘DETECTIVE CHIEF INSPECTOR M. BARNES’, read the plaque on the door. 

The young officer knocked, then opened the door. “Lockwood & Co., Sir”, she announced. 

Barnes looked up - “ah, thankyou, Risley” 

She inclined her head, and stepped out, “Sir”. 

The three stepped into the office, Holly closing the door behind them. The Inspector gestured to the seats in front of his desk, and she and George sat. Lockwood, however, remained standing. 

“Lockwood”, Holly hissed softly, tugging on his sleeve, but he shook her off. 

“Let him, Ms Munro”, Barnes gestured dismissively, “the more comfortable he can make himself, the… less terrible this will be” 

“Terrible?”, the young man parroted, “what’s happened? Have you found her?” 

“Unfortunately not, Mr Lockwood, but… we have a good idea where she may be”, the older man pulled a large laminated map out from a drawer in his desk, and placed it before them; there was things and symbols drawn in red pen, and some in green and blue. 

They seemed largely concentrated on the North side of the Thames, not a million miles from the Thames Flood Barrier. Then, seemingly at the centre of the cluster, a smallish building outlined in white. 

“These are… reported incidents. The colours indicate the years, going back to the early 90’s. As you can probably see”, he tapped the paper, “they seem to centre around Silvertown” 

Holly frowned. “Silvertown? But I thought that whole area had been derelict since after the Second World War?” 

“Officially and legally, yes, but in practice? No”, he sighed, “it’s a very old area, meaning it’s very… jumbled. Lots of streets too narrow to drive down. Very few security cameras. But, unfortunately, it’s all circumstantial - even with the Problem coming to a close, touch wood, the government aren’t keen on putting anymore cash towards human crime” 

Lockwood shifted on his feet. “That’s all jolly fascinating, Inspector, but-“ 

“What does this have to do with Lucy? I’m getting to that, Mr Lockwood, please stop wearing a hole in my rug” 

Lockwood huffed, and dropped into the chair. 

“All of these incidents were carried out with extreme precision and professionalism. Minimal witnesses, areas with few security cameras, and all on Omegas” 

“Is it a hate crime, then?” 

Barnes looked at Lockwood for a moment, before looking back down at the map, then at Holly and George. “It… would be unlikely, Mr Lockwood. Hate crimes against Omegas are… not like this. This… this is human trafficking” 

Silence. 

The Alphas and the Beta stared at him. “H-... human trafficking? As in-... slavery?”, Holly asked, horror evident in her voice and wide eyes. 

Barnes nodded. 

George didn’t speak, removing his glasses and rubbing them on his sweater. Lockwood stared at the older man, mouth pressed together in a thin, white line. 

He stood, looking at Barnes with a dark, intense stare. “You’re sure?” 

The older man tapped the map. “Beyond all reasonable doubt” 

“Do you know who did it?” 

Lockwood gazed at him. “We have some suspects”, Barnes replied, “your friends, the Winkmans, being the main ones” 

“Julius? But isn’t he in prison?”, Holly asked. 

“Got out on good behaviour and medical reasons” 

“It’s ridiculous”, the young man snarled, “he’s a murderer” 

“Be that as it may, Mr Lockwood, I need your word as a gentleman that you will go nowhere near them until we have more information” 

In any other situation, the shock on Lockwood’s face would have made Holly laugh, but now? It wasn’t so amusing. “Are you insane-“, he began, but Barnes cut him off. 

“By doing so, you could jeopardise this entire investigation, Mr Lockwood, and put Ms Carlyle in even more danger” 

He stared at him, but slowly looked down. “... I swear” 

“Good. You have my sincerest condolences. Rest assured we will find who is responsible” 

Holly and George stood. “You better”, Lockwood growled, before the other Alpha pulled him from the room.

They walked down to the street, where Lockwood led them towards Westminster tube station, and onto a fairly crowded train, filled with tourists, businessmen, and even some exhausted looking agents. “Lockwood, where are we going?”, George asked as they took their places, stood in front of the closing doors, but he either didn’t hear him or didn’t care to reply. 

From there, it was a fairly long journey heading East towards Barking. 

There, they got off, the younger Alpha leading them along the Thames embankment until they reached a distinct curve in the river, where a muddy, silty bank had built up against the wall. He peered over the wall. 

“Flo!” 

There was an abrupt crunching of shingle, and a hunched figure below suddenly straightened, face smeared with dirt tilted up towards the sun. “Locky? ‘That you?” 

“Yeah, it’s me”, he hurried down a nearby set of algae-covered steps and across the mud towards her. George followed, Holly behind him, moving perhaps with considerably more hesitancy than him. 

“What’re you doing in these parts?” 

“Listen, Flo- Lucy's missing” 

The blonde Alpha paused at that. “Missing?” 

“She’s been… kidnapped. And Barnes thinks it’s the Winkmans” 

She scratched beneath her ragged straw hat, placing her knife back in her belt. “Kidnapped? Now, Locky, you know I keep away from that-“ 

“I know, I know you do, Flo, but… please, anything you know could- could help”, he looked at her, “please” 

She considered him. 

“... alright. But if any of them coppers come, you leave my name out of it, alright?” 

“You have my word, Flo” 

“Right”, she plodded over to the steps, and sat, looking up at them. George perched beside her. 

“Well? I need to know some details” 

“Of course, um-“, Holly reached into her jacket pocket, and pulled out some paper, “she disappeared from Chaucer’s Road-“ 

“Near the laundromat. Yeah, I know it” 

It privately surprised Holly that Flo knew anything even loosely connotated to clean laundry, but she kept that to herself. 

“And-“ 

“It’s the Winkmans” 

The two Alphas and the Beta looked at her. “You’re sure?”, Lockwood asked. 

“Sure as I am that suits about a size too small on you, Locky” 

“Well, she's no fool”, George said sagely. 

“So where is she now?” 

“Hard to say. They’re pretty quick with getting ‘em out of the country, but… while they’re here, usually in Silvertown” 

“Where?” 

“Some warehouse, or factory, or summit’. Used to make train tracks, ‘as all I know. Got it painted on the wall outside. Can’t miss it” 

Lockwood face split into a relieved grin. “Thanks, Flo. I’ll remember this” 

She grunted, and stood. “Don’t ‘bover me either way. You just treat Carlyle right from here on-“ 

“Of course-“ 

“I mean it, Locky. You better sink your claws into that one before someone else does” 

And with that somewhat cryptic statement, she disappeared across the mud, borne away by the seagulls and the sand. 

They watched her go. George was the first to speak: “we better go find that warehouse” 

-:-:- 

There was a hole in the roof above Lucy's cage. 

The rain was cold, but clean, and she sat against the back wall of her prison, letting the drops run down her face, and make her shiver as they carried off the sweat and dirt accumulated there. 

She clutched Lockwood’s coat - ‘dirty rag’, Winkman has sneered as he threw it at her a short while ago - to her chest, breathing in the scent of laundry detergent, and the very faint smell of Alpha that still lingered in the threads. 

The Omega didn’t know how long she’d been there; it had been dark once, so it was probably just over a day… 

She wrapped herself in the coat, and closed her eyes, curling into the corner of the cage, out of the rain. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in” 

Lucy jerked up. 

A small, wide figure was occupying the lower half of the door. The Omega blinked the raindrops from her eyelashes- “you!” 

In the door, in all his fur-coated, sneering glory, was Leopold Winkman. 

He strolled forwards, cane clicking against the floor. He smelled rank, like sweat and blood and raw flesh. 

“Omega”, his voice was waspish, taunting. 

“When I get out of here, I’m going to-!” 

“Ah, but you won’t get out of there”, he approached the cage, hand resting on the heavy padlock on the door, “not without the help of your ridiculous friends” 

She growled, and sat up, the coat still wrapped about her. 

Winkman smirked. “My father has told me what we’re going to do with you. Your precious Lockwood won't like it very much at all” 

She pushed back her fear, baring her teeth and standing. “You wouldn’t dare!” 

“Oh, but we would. No, he wouldn’t like it much at all”, he sneered, “unless he felt like buying you back” 

Lucy grasped the cage bars. “You bastard-!”

Too fast for her to react, Leopold lifted his cane and struck her knuckles with the hard wooden body. 

The Omega cried out, and stumbled back, fingers stinging, the skin split and bleeding in places. 

“You’ll be sorry”, he snarled. 

A moment later, there was the sound of the door squealing open.


	5. Ω

Lockwood, Holly, George, Barnes, and several other DEPRAC operatives huddled in the shadows of an alley opposite the Shenton Brothers Rail Company, the company’s logo painted in large, fading blue letters on the dirty warehouse wall. 

The young man stared up at the smog-stained windows, up at the corroded sheet metal roof, at the rotten gutters clinging to the mouldering eaves. He didn’t want to imagine Lucy being held captive in that place; she wasn’t helpless, he’d seen that time and time again, but no one deserved to be subjected to the cruelty the Winkman’s inflicted on their workers and hostages. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemies - who were, coincidentally, the Winkman’s. 

The narrow street was quiet, the rain pattering down from the dark clouds overhead, the distant sound of the Thames lapping at the shore from several alleys away. 

“That’s the place”, Barnes said, voice barely audible except to the young man beside him. 

“You’re sure?” 

“As sure as we can be without storming in there”, he muttered, then looked at Lockwood: “don’t go getting any ideas” 

He didn’t reply, too busy trying to identify the peculiar scent he could smell in the wind. The Alpha grimaced - it smelt like a slaughterhouse. 

-:-:- 

Lucy couldn’t feel anything. 

Not that she wanted to, knowing that all she would feel was the cold and pain. As far as she could tell, all her extremities were still attached, although she couldn’t move all of them. 

High above her cage, a thin rain was falling from the dark evening sky, the cold droplets landing on her face. 

She wanted to go home. 

She wanted to go back to 35 Portland Row, 

She wanted to see everyone; Quill, George, Holly, Barnes, even Flo. To see all the rooms again, the living room with its overstuffed armchairs and curios on the walls. The kitchen, and how the light came through the window and filtered through the clean, wet glasses on the draining board and cast rainbows across the Thinking Cloth. The office, where the Skull was sitting on her desk, observing with perverse glee the regular dramas of their lives. 

But most of all, she wanted Lockwood. 

In a very odd way, Lucy had come to peace with what she assumed was to be her fate. Maybe it was pre-destiny, maybe it was her own stupid fault. Either way, she’d fought as best she could, and she’d gone out swinging. 

What was there left to do except lay down and sleep? 

Lockwood’s coat was somewhere either beneath or around her. She could feel the roughish material rubbing against her cheek when she breathed. 

She could open and close her eyes. Slowly. They stuck a little, a dark, foreign liquid gluing her lashes together, and her eyelids to the arch of her eye socket. She could hear a little too, one ear muffled into the thick material of the coat, the other numb from cold. There was a faint ringing, and beyond that the far off sound of seagulls and the gentle slosh of rain. 

She closed her eyes. 

The Omega hoped Lockwood would be happy; he deserved to be happy. To find an Omega that deserved him, that could bear him children, would make a good mate. It would be more than she could have ever done. 

Her cage door started to rattle. She opened her eyes, flickering up in the direction of the sound. 

Leopold was fumbling with the padlock on her cage door, his fat fingers struggling with the complicated lock. 

After a moment, the door swung open. “Get up, Omega” 

She couldn’t move. 

He growled, and stepped closer, filling the air with the rancid scent of flesh. “I said, get up!”

“... can’t…” 

Something hard hit her already bruised ribs, and she choked, air rushing from her lungs. 

When she didn’t move, a hand closed tightly around her upper arm, and yanked her upwards. She had no choice but to follow. 

The Omega’s legs moved on instinct, memory, her flesh stinging, muscles burning. Leopold kept dragging her, dropping his cane at some point to fish about in his jacket for his pistol. 

In the distance, Lucy could hear shouting, banging, and the sound of… gunshots. 

They reached a heavy metal door, when Leopold shoved her through it, following close behind, and up a set of steep, wet concrete stairs.   
The small part of Lucy’s brain that was still rebelling against her accepted fate took note of the damp surface. There must be an opening somewhere! 

Just as she had that thought, she was hit with a blast of frigid air, and the light dimmed, something wet and cold dancing on her sore, exposed skin. 

“Move, Omega”, Leopold snarled, pulling her along, his scent spiking aggressively. Something must be happening. 

They were on a flat section of rooftop, surrounded by rusted metal railings, the concrete around them stained a grizzly red. The surrounding buildings were grey and grim, watching silently. 

He shoved her away from the door they had just emerged from, slamming it behind her and barricading it with a mouldering chair that had been abandoned nearby, drawing his pistol from his ostentatious fur coat and pointing it at her. “Move! Move!” 

Exhaustion had seeped into her bones, her very being, but she managed to shuffle sideways into the corner. 

He backed towards her, eyes on the door. 

A moment later, there was a loud banging from the door. 

“Winkman!”, someone roared, “Winkman! Open this fucking door-!” 

Lockwood. 

Lucy’s heart soared. 

“Lockw-“, she began, but Leopold turned and struck her. “I’ve got a gun, Lockwood! I’ll use it! On you or this Omega!” 

He wrapped a fat arm around her, and dragged her backwards, holding the muzzle of the pistol against her temple. 

There was a temporary quiet, and then the door flew open, hitting the wall behind it with a ‘bang!’. Lockwood, Holly, and Barnes crashed through the door, followed by two armed DEPRAC operatives, who spread out across the roof, taking up positions with their rifles pointed at Leopold and Lucy. 

The criminal snarled, and backed away, weapon still pressed hard against her temple. “Don’t come any closer! I’m not bluffing!” 

Barnes shouldered his way between the other two Alphas, and stepped slowly forwards. “Leopold, listen-” 

The boy pointed the pistol at the floor by Barnes’ feet and fired it. Something embedded itself in the ground with a ‘crack!’. The Beta jerked back, and held his hands up placatingly. 

“Leopold”, he said warningly, “let Lucy go” 

“You’re going to arrest my father! And me!”, he hissed. 

“We won’t do that, Leopold. Just… let Lucy go-” 

He moved her in front of him, edging ever backwards towards the edge of the roof. 

“Don’t you people even understand?! We’re doing this for the greater good!”, Leopold yelled, “an Omegas place is obeying Alphas, you’re all disrupting the natural order!” 

During his speech, he has started gesturing furiously with the handgun, the armed DEPRAC operatives cocking the rifles and watching him down the sights. He made a noise of anger, and pointed the weapon straight at the closer one of the two agents. 

Lucy saw her chance and took it. 

The girl dug her nails into Winkman’s exposed wrist and hand, making him cry out, lessening his grip on her throat. She stamped on his foot, and shoved him backwards. He lost his footing on the slick concrete, and went back through the weak railings- when his hand latched onto Lucy’s coat. 

She felt herself being pulled towards him, towards the edge- 

When a hand closed on the back of the jacket. 

Something hauled her backwards with more force than Winkman could exert, and the boys hand slipped from the coat. With a scream, he disappeared over the edge. 

Lucy watched in shocked silence. 

The hand on her coat moved to her shoulder, a warm, comforting weight. “Miss Carlyle?” 

She turned, coming face to face with Inspector Barnes. “Miss Carlyle, do you need medica-” 

The Omega stepped forwards and wrapped her arms around the older man in a bone-crushing hug. His arms hovered above her waist, before he slowly brought them down and hugged her back. 

By the door, Holly grasped the back of Lockwood’s jacket before he had a chance to move. 

After a moment, Barnes uncomfortably patted her back and cleared his throat. “Right. That- that’s quite enough of that” 

She released him, and was immediately swept up by Lockwood, who pulled her against his chest and buried his face in her hair. “I’m so sorry, Lucy”, he was saying quietly, “I’m so, so sorry. I’m a failure of an Alpha, I couldn’t even keep you safe. Look what I let happen. I’m so-” 

“Ambulance. Can you- I need a-” 

“Of course”, for a moment it seemed as though he’d lift her up and carry her, but instead slid his arms around her waist and leant her against him, helping her down the stairs and out of the warehouse. 

His scent washed over her like warm water, and she took several greedy lungfuls of it, almost clutching at him and demanding he stay with her when he handed her over to the paramedics. 

From her spot on the back of the ambulance, she watched silently as DEPRAC operatives led both Winkman’s employees and other Omegas - she counted seven in total, including her - out and into ambulances if they needed them, or into police cars and off into the growing darkness. 

She gave her account of events to a young Alpha woman in police uniform who smelled of toffee and burnt sugar, who scribbled it down on a notepad, before giving her a reassuring nod at the end, and walking back to Barnes. 

The older man was watching proceedings from beside a police van, helping younger operatives pile the criminals into it. 

Someone cleared her throat beside her. 

She turned. 

Lockwood was stood beside the ambulance, looking remarkably uncomfortable for someone who had just helped save her life. 

Lucy tugged his old coat slightly tighter around her. “... Lockwood” 

“Lucy, I-...”, he paused, and brushed some hair out of his face, “... I, um…” 

They both started to go red. 

They sat or stood in silence as a paramedic disinfected the cuts on her face and gave her instructions on how to take care of them. Thankfully, she wouldn’t need any stitches. 

The medic left, and there was another silence. 

“... so…”, Lockwood shifted in his feet. 

Lucy, who had been looking down at her boots, covered in a variety of scuffs and stains, suddenly looked up. 

“Do you want to get dinner at some point?” 

He blinked. “Oh- um, sure. There’s a cafe about fifteen minutes away, I could get you a sandwich-“ 

“I meant… just us two. As… as a date” 

“A date?”, he echoed. 

“Yeah. A date. A… romantic date” 

The Alpha blinked again. 

Lucy felt a hand an invisible hand close around her windpipe. “Or- Or all of us, together. Lockwood & Co. reunited, and all that-“ 

“Lucy” 

“I suppose we’d have to invite Quill, too, and Barnes-“ 

“Lucy” 

“But that would be okay. Quill’s not as bad as you think, and Barnes just saved my life-“ 

“Lucy”

Third time’s the charm. Although, Lucy shutting up may have had more to do with the vast hand Lockwood had suddenly planted on her knee, as he turned to look her in the eye. 

Being sat on the folding bed, rolled as close to the edge as it could get, the Omega sat at eye level with him.

He moved his hand from her knee to grasp both of hers gently. He smiled at her. 

“Lucy, I would love to go on a date with you at some point” 

“... seriously?” 

“Seriously” 

She couldn’t suppress her smile, or her blush. 

Holly’s voice broke their bubble. He glanced over his shoulder, then back to Lucy. He smirked. 

“Don't go anywhere. We’ve got plans to make” 

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me what to do” 

The gigantic hands suddenly came down on her shoulders, and he leaned forward. She leant back slightly, his scent overwhelming. “Be a good Omega, and stay. Right. Here” 

She shivered. 

Lockwood smirked, turned, and walked away across the street, silhouetted against the neon streetlamps.


	6. σ

“So…”, Quill was trying his best to sound casual, stirring his tea with a limply held teaspoon, “... you and Lockwood…” 

 

Lucy took a swig of her hot chocolate, placing it back down on her desk. “Lockwood and I?” 

 

“... you two fucking?”

 

She choked a little. Quill leant back in Lockwood’s chair, feet on the desk. “It’s a legitimate question”. “I gathered” 

 

“Well?” 

 

The girl sighed. “Quill-“ 

 

“It’s been two and a half months since we got you back. Come on” 

 

She was silent for a moment. “... some… stuff… might have happened-“ 

 

He gasped. “You have!” 

 

“-Not that it’s any of your business!” 

 

“Who cares?! You’re getting it off Lockwood! My little baby’s all grown up!”, Kipps squeaked, grabbing her hand, “what was it like? What happened? I demand to know everything” 

 

Lucy opened her mouth to speak, when a voice from the top of the stairs interrupted her. “Luce, have you seen my tie? The dark green one?” 

 

“It’s right here” 

 

He made his way down the steps and across the Basement. He placed a hand on the desk just to the left of Lucy, and leaned over her, grabbing the tie from where it had been discarded, draped across the Skull’s jar. 

 

Quill watched in silent awe; Lucy wasn’t a touchy person. She didn’t like being touched. That was almost one of her defining personality traits. But here Lockwood was, leaning over her, his chest just brushing the back of her head, and she was just sipping her hot chocolate. 

 

As suddenly as it had happened, it was over, and Lockwood withdrew, tossing the tie casually over his shoulder, and drawing his hand back, brushing Lucy’s upper arm, before he left the room, leaving Quill sat there with his mouth gaping. 

 

The other Omega caught sight of him in her peripheral vision, and raised an eyebrow. “Close your mouth, Quill, or a fly might land in there”, she said snidely. He gaped for a moment longer, then snapped his mouth shut. “You- he just- you let- him-” 

 

“I gave Lockwood his tie back. What are you blathering on about?” 

 

“You- you- but you hate being touched!”

 

She shrugged. “He brushed me” 

 

“He wasn’t just in your personal space! He WAS your personal space!”

 

An eyeroll. “Now you’re just being dramatic” 

 

‘Quill’s right, Lucy…’, a spectral voice cooed, ‘getting a bit… “up close and personal” with Lockwood, weren’t you?’ 

 

“Oh, shut up” 

 

‘Oh, please, Carlyle… I may be a skull but I do have ears, you know… and you’re not exactly quiet. I can hear you from down here-’ 

 

She reached out, and snapped the lever on top of the Skull’s jar closed. 

 

Quill sipped his tea. “What did it say?” 

 

Lucy scowled at the Visitor, who grinned back, mouthing vulgarly. “The usual nonsense” 

 

“Huh”, he took another sip of tea, “well. Anyway, you owe me a detailed account of what happened with Lockwood-”. “-I don’t owe you anything-”

 

He pouted. “Please…”, Quill whined. 

 

“No” 

 

“... Pleeeeease…” 

 

“I said, no” 

 

Quill grumbled discontentedly. “I thought we were friends, Luce…” 

 

“We are. Friends with boundaries” 

 

He groaned. “I’ll see myself out”, the older Omega stood. Lucy smirked, rolled her eyes and followed. 

 

She watched from the front door as he climbed into a cab, waving as he departed. Lucy closed the door, and turned, walking back into the kitchen- when she was yanked behind the door. 

 

A hand came down over her mouth, and she yelped. 

 

“Going somewhere?’, a familiar voice purred, and Lucy relaxed in her boyfriend’s grip. “You!” 

 

He smirked. “Me?” 

 

The Alpha nudged the kitchen door shut with his foot and pinned her against it. “So…”, he looked her up and down, “come here often, Omega?” 

 

Lucy rolled her eyes fondly, and slid out of his grasp. “You’re so ridiculous”, she moved towards the kettle. 

 

“I suppose so, but that’s why you love me”

The Omega smiled, getting out two mugs and placing them on the counter. “I suppose I must do, having put up with you for this long”, she clicked the kettle on. 

 

Something warm pinned her against the counter, a familiar pair of arms looping themselves around her waist, a nose pressing against the side of her throat. His lips came to rest over the glands in her neck, and Lucy almost choked. 

 

“Rather- affectionate today, aren’t we?” 

 

“Aren’t I allowed to show my girlfriend affection?” 

 

“Hmm”, she tossed the teabags into the cups, and Lockwood snatched her hand out of midair, kissing it, making her laugh. 

 

“What do you want?!” 

 

“You. Later” 

 

“Later?” 

 

“Well, now, if you’re up for that”, he shuffled forwards, pinning her against the counter with his hips, and Lucy laughed again, batting him away, “but I thought I’d be civilised and wait” 

 

“Please don’t make me listen to another second of this” 

 

George’s voice came from the doorway, and Lucy felt herself blush a little. Lockwood was unphased. “Go away, then” 

 

“Can’t. Have to make sure you don’t get her pregnant” 

 

Lucy actually choked this time. George continued casually. “You’re too young for kids, so I’m here to prevent anything too graphic from happening” 

 

“Bit late, really”, Lockwood murmured in her ear, and Lucy bit back a smile. 

 

“Because, one day, you will be old enough and wise-... old enough and rich enough to have kids. Don’t spoil it” 

 

“Will do”, Lockwood gave him a mocking salute, and the Beta narrowed his eyes, before making his way into the living room and out of sight. 

 

Lockwood pulled away and leant against the kitchen table, but Lucy hesitated. 

 

_ Children.  _

 

The Alpha cocked his head to the side. “Luce?” 

 

She looked up, startled. “What-?” 

 

“You zoned out. Everything okay?”. “Oh- Yeah. Yeah. Fine. Just fine-...”. “... very convincing” 

 

She sighed. “I just-... children” 

 

“What about them?” 

 

“... Anthony-... what if I turn out like her?” 

 

He frowned for a moment. “Who-... Oh. Your-... your mother?”. The Omega nodded. 

 

Lockwood sighed, and held out a hand for her to take, which she did. “Lucy, you have more compassion and good in your pinky finger than that woman has in her entire body” 

 

“But I don’t know what-“ 

 

“ _ No one  _ knows how to parent. Lucy, I don’t know how to be a dad. I didn’t know how to be an Agent, either. But like Hemingway says-“. “Who’s Hemingway?”. “He was an old writer”. “Oh”. “But like he says, ‘the shortest answer is doing the thing’” 

 

He kissed her knuckles, resting them against his lips. “You would be a brilliant mother, Lucy, if you ever decide to become one” 

 

“... I’d like to be a mother with you. Later. When I’m older” 

 

A grin - softer, less easy, more intimate - spread across his face. It was one of the ones he saved just for her. 

 

“I’d like that, too” 

 

“Keep it clean in there!”, George’s voice shrieked. 


End file.
